


Wolf, Take Two

by Janina



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Transformation, Animalistic, Dubious Consent, F/M, Smut, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-17 03:37:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13068297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: Rewriting Wolf to my liking.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this first chapter, not much has changed. Just a few elements. The next chapter, we start getting into it a little more, as in the development of Jonsa's relationship at a slower pace.

Jon had heard the stories when he returned to Winterfell about the wolf that stalked the grounds on full moons, howling and hunting in the woods. They said it left trails of blood in the white snow from its kills, and that sometimes, the entrails it left behind looked human. 

Jon had seen and experienced enough in his short life to not dispel the stories out of hand. It wasn’t every day one fought White Walkers, saw giants, or came back from the dead. And he had in fact died...in a way... until the red-haired witch brought him back. Before that he’d been inside his direwolf, Ghost. He knew about warging, he just never knew he could actually _do it._

So, yes, he knew better than to dismiss such notions of a wolf that protected Winterfell. 

Besides, any additional help was appreciated. He ruled the North now thanks to Daenerys, who he had learned was now his aunt. She sat on that atrocity of a throne after he’d refused it, much to her delight. 

All he wanted was Winterfell. Daenerys let him have it, but he had the feeling it wouldn’t be long before she wanted something from him. And he feared that something would be marriage. 

Yet Jon longed for a quiet life after all he’d been through, and all he wanted was home. He desperately missed his family, and he worked hard now to restore Winterfell to its former glory. Not a day went by that he didn’t hope that Bran, Arya, Sansa, and Rickon were alive and might return to Winterfell. 

Now, on the night of first full moon since he’d returned to Winterfell, he watched from a turret to see if he could catch a glimpse of it. 

When he saw it, he found himself riveted. He watched in fascination as it loped around and around the grounds, and when the light of the moon caught on its fur, Jon saw that the fur was red. It was beautiful, almost otherworldly. Definitely larger than most wolves, but was not as large as Ghost. And thankfully, Ghost was currently locked up inside. Jon had wanted to watch this wolf alone without interference from what might be considered a threat to Ghost. 

It looked up at him as he stood there watching it. It sat in the snow and just stared at him. And then it tore off into the woods and Jon didn’t see it again. 

The next morning when he looked out to where the wolf had been, he saw a trail of red in the snow. Curious, he followed the trail out, sword by his side just in case. 

He followed the trail of blood that led to another trail of blood, and soon he found himself deep in the forest. When he came upon a cave, he heard rustling and a wail come from the inside. Jon drew his sword, went to the mouth of the cave, and peered inside. What he saw took his breath away and shocked him to the core.

Sansa. _Sansa_ was in there. 

She was dirty and naked, dried blood on her chin and breasts, and down the entire front of her. She stared at him, shivering, wide-eyed, her hair a tangle. She growled softly. 

“Sansa,” he breathed. 

She inhaled sharply and sniffed the air. She got down on all fours and moved closer to the mouth of the cave. She whimpered. Jon dropped his sword and went down to his knees. He held out a hand in her direction, scarcely able to believe what he was seeing. She came closer and sniffed at his hand and then pushed the top of her head into it as if seeking for him to pet her. 

“Oh, Sansa, what has happened to you?” he murmured sadly. 

He rose to his feet and his sudden movement startled her. She growled and scampered back in the cave. He sheathed his sword, took off his cloak, and draped it over his arm. He knelt again and held out his hand. “Sansa, come back. Come back to me…”

Slowly she made her way back out, sniffing the air and watching him warily. When she was before him he pointed to the cloak. “I’m going to put this on you.”

“Can you stand, Sansa?” He ever so slowly rose to his feet. “Like this.”

She grunted and slowly began to rise. She watched him closely, wincing as he came closer. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her gently. “You know who I am, Sansa. It’s Jon. You remember me?”

She grunted at him again, and he drew closer and closer as she watched him. Finally, he managed to wrap the cloak around her shoulders. He took her hand, it was cold and dirty. 

He held out his hand to her. “Will you come with me? Into Winterfell?”

She whimpered and Jon led them slowly through the forest and back to their home. This, he had not expected. 

xxxxxxx

Jon led Sansa back to their home and his heart ached as he watched her struggle to walk correctly. It was as if it was a strain for her, as if she was just learning how. How long, he wondered, had she been walking on all fours? 

When they made it to the gate, she looked up and made a keening sound in the back of her throat. 

“We’re home, Sansa,” Jon told her. “Winterfell.”

She had tears in her eyes. He wanted to weep as well. After thinking his family dead and gone, it brought him joy to see one returned…and sorrow to see what she had been returned as. Though what she exactly was, Jon couldn’t say. Part wolf? How was this possible? He thought of his aunt’s dragons and the White Walkers. Right then. Anything was possible. 

The gates opened and in they went, Jon making sure they were closed behind them. People stopped and stared, pausing in their tasks and wherever they were headed to, to watch them. Murmurs spread like a hum throughout the crowd. Jon glared at them as his hand tightened around Sansa. She whined and Jon drew her close to his side. 

“She is the Lady of Winterfell!” he shouted. Sansa jumped and bared her teeth, and Jon drew her closer into him. “Do you not see? It is Sansa Stark returned!”

Some didn’t stop their staring. Others looked shamed and went about their business. 

Jon made the trek to the Lord’s Chambers. He didn’t stay in them, as he didn’t feel entitled to them despite the fact that he’d been the only Stark - _half_ -Stark - in Winterfell. But he had all the rooms his siblings had resided in prepared just in case they ever arrived. Including the Lord’s Chambers. 

Now that Sansa was here, she would reside there. She was the Lady of Winterfell, a true-born Stark, and he would fight anyone that challenged Sansa’s claim to Winterfell. Even Daenerys. 

When they got to her bedroom door, Sansa stopped and stared at the door, her head tilting to the side. 

“It’s Father’s room, Sansa. And your Lady Mother’s,” Jon said gently. Later, he would tell her that he was her cousin now. 

She whined again, sounding like a wounded animal. Jon gathered her close. “Tis all right, Sansa. This is your home. Would you like to see?”

She whined again, but it sounded less desperate this time. Jon extracted himself from her arms and pushed her door open and she stood there and stared inside without moving. Jon waited. He wouldn’t push her. 

Slowly she stepped forward, her movements a bit jerky. 

The room had been restored as much to its previous glory as Jon could get it with the bed made, fresh furs on the bed, a bath tucked in the corner, two chairs before the fire, and tapestries hung on the wall that had been beaten until all dust was removed from them. 

It was hard to be in this room, which was partly the reason why Jon wouldn’t take it. It was as though Ned’s ghost was in here, Catelyn too. It made him miss the man he’d thought was his father terribly, and also made him wish that things could have been different then so that Catelyn might’ve not hated him as much as she did. 

The maids bustling in with water and a tub for Sansa’s bath startled her, and she growled and bared her teeth. One of the maids nearly dropped a pail of water in fright. 

“No, Sansa, no,” Jon said, rushing to calm her. He sent a stern look at the maids. “Quickly now.”

While the maids worked, Sansa went to one of her windows and peered out, putting her hand upon the glass. 

“Fa-fa-fa-fa…” she said

“Are you trying to say Father, Sansa?” Jon asked quietly as she came up beside her. 

She shut her eyes tight and emitted a sound a pure agony. Tears sprang to Jon’s eyes. She was in pain. How long had she been in pain? He imagined it was the same for her as it had been for all them – scattered to the wind with no support and surrounded by people who wanted to use them for one reason or another. 

She clawed at the window as tears fell from her eyes, dropping quickly down her cheeks, wetting the dirt and the blood caked on her skin. 

Jon grasped her hand to keep her from clawing at the window and she growled at him. “Sansa, no,” he said firmly. He hated this. He spoke to her as one would a family pet. 

She jerked away from him and looked down. One of Catelyn’s brushes sat on top of a table. She touched the bristles with her fingers very delicately. 

“The bath is readied, Your Highness,” one of the maids said, and her voice shook. Jon wasn’t sure if it was him she feared or Sansa. He was willing to bet it was both of them. 

“Thank you,” he said. “Please ready some food for Lady Sansa. As well as her bedding and see if there are dresses and night rails about.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Now, go. Lady Sansa must bathe.”

Jon led Sansa to the bath after the maids had departed and stood before her while she stared down into the water. “Sansa, it’s time for a bath.”

She looked at him. He tugged on the tie of his cloak. “We’re going to take this off and get you clean. Yes?” She grunted and nodded and he slowly undid his cloak, pushed it off her shoulders, and laid it on her bed. He took her hand. “Step in, one foot at a time,” he directed. 

She did, wobbling a bit, and then sank down into the tub, almost squatting instead of sitting. Jon instructed her to lean back against the back and spread her legs out before her. She did so and grunted. 

Jon took his time washing her. He directed her to dunk her head, and he washed and rinsed her hair and scrubbed the dirt and blood, and what looked like the flesh of animals out from under her nails. He worked hard and diligently until her pale skin was clean and practically glowing. 

Then he directed her to stand and step out of the tub. He dried her off and when she began to shiver, he drew his cloak around her again and had her sit on her bed. 

The maids had found garments for her and carried piles of them in. Sansa watched them warily. 

Jon dressed her, foregoing stays – and he didn’t care how scandalous that might seem. She pulled at her garments, showing him she didn’t want them on at all. 

“No, Sansa,” he told her. “You have to wear clothes.” He stayed her hands when still she tried to pull them off. “No, Sansa.”

Finally, she stopped. 

He plaited her hair and then when the food was brought, he watched as she dug into the food with her hands, stuffing her mouth as though she hadn’t eaten in months. And, judging by the bones he’d seen when she’d been naked, she hadn’t. 

When she looked at him and found him watching her, she stopped eating and wiped at her mouth. She looked embarrassed. It reminded Jon of that prim and proper sister he had once known who adhered to manners so strictly. 

“It’s all right, Sansa,” he said gently. “Eat.”

She did, but slower this time. 

After she’d eaten every bite and guzzled down goblet after goblet of water, she looked at him sleepily. 

“Do you wish to lay down?” he asked. 

She nodded and then pointed at him. 

“You want me to lay with you?”

She nodded. 

He nodded. Hang propriety. Hang everything but making sure Sansa got what she needed and was taken care of. He stood. 

She grunted and followed him to the bed. She climbed onto it on all fours. When she got to the middle of the bed she stretched her arms out in front of her and her rump went up in the air. She let out a small whimper as she stretched and then lay down on her side. Jon crawled in beside her, and lay on his side so he could look at her. 

She blinked at him and then her eyelids grew heavier and heavier and soon they dropped completely and stayed shut. Jon wasn’t tired. His mind was racing with questions. What had happened to her? How long had she been like this? What would it take to get her back to the way she was?

Finally, after a long time of watching her sleep, he too fell into slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

Jon's eyes popped open at the feel of hands roaming his body. He tried to sit up and was shoved back down on the bed. His mind struggled to catch up. 

_Sansa, wolf, cave--_

"Sansa," he gasped and attempted to sit up again. She shoved him back down and growled, baring her teeth as she hovered over him. Her blue eyes were like slits, her hair like a curtain around her face. She was naked and as he angled his head down and to the side he noticed what he had felt. She'd ripped his trousers off and was on her way to ripping his smallclothes off as well. His body must have reacted to her touch while he'd been sleeping because he was undoubtedly hard. 

"Sansa, what are you doing?" he whispered raggedly. 

She made short work of his smallclothes and straddled him. Seven hells, she was wet. Finally, he got it. What she meant to do. "Sansa, no," he gasped.

She cocked her head to the side and her eyes narrowed as she studied him. Then she got into position.

"Sansa, you can't—"

But then she did.

"Seven hells!" he shouted.

She growled and started to move over him.

Jon's eyes rolled up in his head. Bloody buggering hell she was so wet and tight and he should not at all be enjoying this, but it'd been a long time and fuck...

"Sansa, this is wrong," he told her as she bounced up and down on his cock. "You just attacked me..." He attempted to sit up and she jutted her hand out and put it around his neck, growling again. She squeezed just a bit and Jon got the message loud and clear:- _don't move. Don't even try it._

He gave up. There was nothing for it. Despite the fact that his body was responding, this was wrong. He hadn't been willing despite his hard cock, and Sansa wasn't in her right mind. If and when she came back to herself how would she perceive this? Would she think of it as him having taken advantage of her?

He welled up in tears at the impossibility of the situation.

And now he was nearing release.

She must have seen it in his face then for she stopped and cocked her head to the side.

Jon cried out, his cock aching for the release that had been so close. "Sansa..."

She leaned over him and licked at the side of his face where his tears fell. He shut his eyes, trying not think about the feel of her breasts against his chest.

"Please," he whispered desperately and then opened his eyes. She looked at him curiously.

Jon lifted his hips, and she understood: _keep going._

She sat up and began to ride him again and soon, so fucking soon, he cried out and erupted inside her even as he thought - No! I cannot get a babe on her!

And then he felt her silken walls gripping him tight as she milked his seed from him. She threw her head back, her hair brushing his thighs and she howled long and loud.

Unbidden the thought came to Jon as he watched her: _Glorious._

She fell back to sleep after nuzzling at his neck and burrowing into him, and Jon lay there, heart racing and staring up at the ceiling in disbelief. 

Had that really just happened? His wet cock and his body still humming from his peak said that it had. 

Gods…

It couldn’t happen again, that he knew for certain. He detached himself from her embrace slowly and climbed out of the bed. He quietly and quickly washed, using the basin on the bureau, and then dressed. 

When he departed the room, he locked it and told a passing maid that no one was to disturb Lady Sansa, and that if she awoke to fetch him immediately in Maester Tarly’s rooms. He told her to pass the word on and she hurried to do just that. 

Jon went in the other direction and sought out Sam up in his turret. He found his friend concocting something in one of his vials. He looked up from his desk and smiled while Gilly, his wife, looked over at him from where she sat before the fire, rocking Little Sam to sleep. 

Jon waved to her in greeting and she nodded and gazed back down at Little Sam. 

“What can I do for you, Jon?” Sam asked. 

“I, uh, I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just say it. We’ve no secrets here.”

“Well, you remember those rumors we heard when we first arrived in Winterfell? About the wolf who roamed the grounds on full moons?”

Sam nodded, his brown eyes alighting with curiosity. “I do.”

“I saw her last night, and followed a trail she left this morning.”

“You know for certain it’s a she?”

Jon nodded. “I know because the wolf is Sansa.”

Sam blinked. “Say again?”

“The wolf is Sansa. I found her in the woods in a cave, dirty with dried blood on her and naked. She was crawling on all fours, Sam. She is the wolf.”

“Where is she now?” Sam asked, looking a bit disbelieving. Not that Jon could entirely blame him. 

“In the Lord’s Chambers, sleeping. I bathed her, attempted to put some clothes on her…” He didn’t want to say that he’d fucked her. Or rather that she had fucked him. Not with Gilly in the room. Possibly not at all. 

“You’ve got a wolf in the castle?” Gilly asked as she came up beside Jon, Little Sam in his crib now. 

“The wolf is Sansa,” Jon told her. 

Gilly looked at Sam as if to say that Jon had apparently taken leave of his senses.

“I know it sounds far-fetched, but after all we’ve seen, can you please just trust me?” Jon asked, looking from Gilly to Sam. “I’d like for you to look her over and make sure--”

A howl pierced the air. 

“She’s awake,” Jon said and started for the door.

Another howl came soon after. Ghost. 

“Come with me, please!” Jon said and hurried out the door. 

Sam bolted up and followed him, running down the stairs as fast as he could to keep up with Jon. 

They ran down one hallway, then another and another and another, until finally they reached the one that held the Lord’s Chamber. Ghost was at the door, growling, and two maids were outside of it, looking distressed. One was crying and the other was trying to calm her. 

He could hear Sansa through the door, growling and scratching at the door. 

“Move!” Jon barked and the maids dispersed. Ghost didn’t though. He stayed where he was and clawed at the door. “Ghost, no. To my room.”

Ghost looked up at him and Jon swore he wore the same expression Gilly had earlier. “To my room, boy, now!” Jon said firmly. 

Whining, Ghost trotted off. 

Jon then opened the door and dragged Sam in after him. Sam gasped at the sight of her. Jon did, too, but he wasn’t sure if they were for the same reasons. For one, Sansa was naked, which could account for Sam’s gasp, but it was the blood on her hands and face that accounted for Jon’s. 

“Sansa, what did you do to yourself,” he said and rushed to her, taking her hands gently in his to see the damage she’d done. She was missing a few nails and blood seeped from them. When he looked up to inspect her face he realized she must have smeared the blood on her hands on her face. 

“Sansa, don’t do that to yourself,” he murmured. “You made yourself bleed.”

She looked at him, and then past him at Sam. A low growl came from her and Jon put his hands on her shoulders. “Sansa, that is my friend Sam. He is no danger to you or to me. Do you understand?”

She considered him for a few seconds and then walked to Sam. 

Sam stood still - he didn’t even look like he was breathing - as Sansa approached him. She sniffed at him - at his neck, his face, his shoulders, and then around his back at his arse. 

“Sansa,” Jon said urgently. 

Sam looked at him in horror. 

“Wolf,” Jon said by way of explanation. “I told you.”

Sansa made her way back around Sam still sniffing and then, must have decided that Sam was indeed safe, and made her way back to Jon. She sniffed at him, too and growled, eyes narrowing. 

“What do you smell on me, Sansa? Is it Sam?”

She nodded. 

“I left you for a bit to see him. His wife was there, and I spoke to the maids in the hall. And Ghost. Do you remember Ghost?”

She nodded slowly, the look on her face thoughtful. 

“Let’s wash up again,” Jon said guiding her to the wash basin. On the way, he grabbed his cloak and draped it over her shoulders. He looked over his shoulder at Sam who was watching them with wide eyes. 

Jon smiled tremulously at his friend and guided Sansa into washing up. When she was clean of blood, he guided her to the bed and sat her down. “Sam is our maester here, Sansa. Will you allow him to look you over, make sure you’re healthy?”

She peered over at Sam and shook her head. 

“Sansa, for me, please? I want to make sure you are healthy,” Jon asked, nearly pleading. 

She shook her head again and then stood and started sniffing at him again. She then leaned in close and nuzzled at his neck. Jon’s intake of breath was sharp, and he heard Sam gasp behind him. 

“Sansa, no,” Jon said and pushed her to sit down on the bed. She glared up at him and reached her hand out towards his cock. “Sansa!” he reprimanded sharply. 

And what, he wondered, did it say about him that he felt his cock twitch with interest?

“Jon, may I speak with you alone, please?” Sam asked. 

Jon nodded, his eyes trained on Sansa who was watching him with narrowed, determined eyes. “Sansa, stay here. I am going to speak with Sam just outside this door alone, all right?”

She emitted a soft growl but nodded. 

He felt her eyes on him, burning into him, as he made his way out into the hall with Sam. 

“Jon, I’m not sure how to ask this,” Sam said hesitantly. 

“She mounted me in my sleep, Sam,” Jon told him. So much for not telling him. Though Sansa had blatantly attempted to grab him, and had nuzzled against him suggesting an intimacy was there. 

Sam’s eyes went wide. “So you...and she…?”

Jon nodded solemnly, his eyes downcast. “I couldn’t stop her. You saw her - she’s more wolf than human. She made it clear that I was not to stop her.”

“Does she yet know that you are cousins and not brother and sister?”

Jon grimaced. “Not yet. There wasn’t a chance to tell her.”

Sam sighed. “She chose to bed you in the state she’s in.”

“Yes,” Jon said softly. 

“Well, then. It’s quite clear to me that she is an alpha female, and you, my friend, are her chosen mate.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jon just stared at his friend, unsure how to take this bit of information. “I’m her mate?”

“How else would you explain her taking you? In her wolf state it is clear that the rules of propriety and perhaps morality do not stand.”

Jon narrowed his eyes. “Morality? What are you suggesting?”

“She bed you even though she still believes you are her brother. That suggest that her faculties as a human have been compromised and the same rules do not apply.”

Jon nodded slowly and felt the need to add, “Half-brother.” He cleared his throat when Sam looked at him in puzzlement. “I was thought to be her half-brother,” Jon said quickly. 

Sam saw right through him and narrowed his eyes. He did not say a word, but then he didn’t have to. His look said it all. 

Sansa howling interrupted them and Jon bolted back into the room. She glared at him and then Sam. At Sam, she bared her teeth with a low growl. 

“Sansa, no,” Jon said firmly. “Sam is our friend.”

“Jon,” Sam said, “I would suggest you keep her away from the servants until you can get her to a manageable state.”

Jon just looked at him in exasperation. “You think so?”

Sam offered up a little smile. 

“There is nothing you can do?” Jon asked his friend. 

Sam sighed as he studied Sansa, careful, Jon noted, not to look below her face. Sansa had already discarded his cloak. 

“If I could observe her I might be able to think of something that might help, but...well, Jon, this is quite out of my expertise. I’ve not heard of a person changing into a wolf before. I would need to study her.”

Jon frowned. Study her. Jon didn’t like the sound of that. It made Sansa sound as though she was one of Sam’s concoctions and experiments. He didn’t like the idea of her being poked and prodded. 

“I wouldn’t hurt her, Jon,” Sam said softly. 

Jon sighed. “I know that.”

Sansa came over to him then and nuzzled at his neck, making little whining sounds in the back of her throat. Jon found himself leaning into her. 

“Sansa,” he said, and it came out as a plea rather than the rebuke he’d intended. He put his hands on her shoulders and set her back. Her blue eyes glinted with something dangerous. 

He pointed at her. “Stay.”

Sansa was having none of it though, she leapt back into his space, twining herself around him, sniffing at him and making those sounds in the back of her throat again. 

“Jon, do you wish for me to leave?” Sam asked softly. 

“I--I think I should leave as well,” Jon said, though he felt himself weakening. He should not though, and he knew it. “Sansa,” he said again and set her away from him. “No. We cannot.”

She growled. 

“No,” he said again, louder this time. “Stay.” He kept his gaze trained on her. 

“Jon, are you listening to me?”

Jon hadn’t even realized Sam had been speaking. He had been focused solely on Sansa, how her blue eyes were dark now, like the sky at night. And how her skin was as luminous as the moon. Sansa had always been a beautiful girl, but now...now she was otherworldly. 

Slowly, Jon turned his head towards Sam.

“Perhaps, we should…?” Sam said and angled his head toward the door. 

Sansa didn’t see; she only had eyes for Jon. Jon nodded in agreement, though something inside him protested the thought of leaving her. Was he led now by his cock? He’d never thought himself so easily swayed. 

Once he started for the door after Sam, Sansa started bounding after him. Jon managed to slam the door shut and lock it behind him. He set his back against the door just as Sansa started to howl and claw at it. 

He looked at Sam helplessly. “She’s hurting herself again,” he whispered.

Sam frowned. “I know. I don’t like it either, but what else is there to do? How else can you stop her? It’s like Little Sam, see.”

“How?” Jon asked incredulously. 

“When Gilly and I decided it was time for him to sleep in his crib, we put him there and let him cry until he tuckered himself out. We didn’t give in and take him back to bed with us--”

Jon arched a brow and Sam sighed. “All right, perhaps we did for a few days, but slowly we were able to get him to stay in his crib without crying for us.”

“This is a little different, Sam,” Jon said. He pointed over his shoulder while Sansa banged against it. “You saw her. She hurt herself. She lost nails.”

“I know,” Sam said softly. “But do you think you can keep her from mounting you again?”

“I do not know,” Jon murmured. 

“Perhaps if we take a walk? She can probably smell you through the door, considering her wolf senses, and if you are no longer standing here, then she could stop.”

“She hurt herself bloody while I was away seeing you,” Jon reminded him. 

“You want to go in,” Sam said. 

He did. But he didn’t want to admit it. “You’re right, let’s walk,” Jon said. “I think a bit of fresh air might help.”

Sam started the walk with him down the hall and when they were about halfway down, Sansa screamed. 

Jon turned immediately and bounded down the hall, his heart racing with fear. He unlocked the door despite his shaking hands and whipped the door open wide. 

A flash of red charged him and Jon leapt out of the way as Sansa, in her wolf form, bounded past him and down the hall. 

“Sansa!” he shouted, and started running after her. “Sansa, stop!”

But she was having none of it. And she was so fast - too fast for him to possibly catch. That didn’t stop him from trying though. 

By the time Jon made it to the gates, she was passing through it, the guards looking rather spooked. He roared at them for letting her go and they stared at him, wide-eyed and nodding, and promising not to let the red wolf Prince Jon called Sansa pass through the gates without him again. 

Jon passed through them now, shouting for her. But she was gone. Jon hunched over, panting, his breath creating white clouds in the air. 

“Jon, should you get Ghost maybe?” Sam asked behind him, his breathing laborious. 

Jon straightened and shook his head. “He doesn’t know her. Not yet. They’d fight.”

He turned, feeling defeated, and started back. 

“I apologize, Jon,” Sam said as he fell into step beside his friend. “I should have not argued against your staying with her. I just thought that you didn’t want her to…”

“Fuck me?” Jon asked with a bitter laugh. He didn’t have to look at Sam to know the other man was reddening. 

“Precisely.”

“It’s not right that we should…” Jon trailed off, and then sighed. “Sansa is all I have left now. I do not wish harm to come to her, though it appears she has managed to keep herself safe.” 

“I can understand that. You’ve lost much in the war.”

Jon nodded. They all had. But now he had Sansa back, and though it had been but a day he’d kill anyone or anything that harmed her or threatened to take her away from him. He feared her getting caught in a trap, felled by a hunter, or in a fight with other wolves. He’d have to find a way to keep her inside, that was all he could do. 

“She’ll come back, Jon,” Sam said, patting his back. “She’s made contact with you now. She’s claimed you; she will return.”

Jon clenched his jaw and headed back inside the castle with Sam. “Care to share some ale with me?” he asked Sam with a slight smile. 

Sam nodded, grinning. “Of course.”

*********

Jon woke to the sound of low growls and the feel of a body atop him. His eyes flew open into Sansa’s darkening blue orbs. She was dirty. Mud was smeared on her arms and chest and face, and Jon noted the blood dribbled down the front of her. Her hair was matted with mud. She was naked, of course, and it took Jon a few minutes to realize that not only was the sun up, but Sansa was ripping his clothes off him.

He had vague memories of getting a bit in his cups with Sam before staggering up to the Lords Chambers should Sansa return. He’d been hoping to drown his worry that Sansa might not return. And he wondered how she did - as she was now or as a wolf? He could just imagine the guards letting her in as the wolf…

“Sansa,” he rasped when she shoved his breeches down. “No.”

She bared her teeth at him and ripped his small clothes away from his body. 

He was hardening already and he wondered how, how was this possible? Why was his body betraying him and how did he get it to stop? 

She moved her hips, rubbing herself against his cock and he moaned and gripped her hips. “Sansa, we cannot do this!” he attempted again. 

There was nothing for it. Realizing he was at full mast now, Sansa sank down on him and let a low whine. And then she began to ride him vigorously. Her cunt was hot and wet and it gripped him, sucking him deeper inside her as she moved up and down and up and down. 

The only woman he’d ever been with was Ygritte and they had kissed while rutting at least. His gaze drifted to Sansa’s pink lips, untouched by dirt, and he wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Did she know how? Would she accept one?

Jon squeezed his eyes shut. Now he was thinking of kissing her?! He gasped when her cunt squeezed him and his eyes popped open. 

She was lost in her pleasure, her head back, breasts bouncing, her mouth open, and eyes shut. She kept her hands on his stomach for leverage and despite all the dirt and blood on her, Jon saw her beauty. How her breasts would fit in his hands, the pink tips of them hard and pebbled. His mouth watered. 

Under the dirt in her hair was a blazing red with dark undertones. And her skin, her luminescent skin…

Jon was aware that he looked upon her as a lover would and he knew that it was wrong, but with her cunt gripping him as it did, and the earthy scent of her invading his senses, he also knew he was lost to this. 

When she peaked, she bent over him and bit down on his shoulder. Jon cried out and came inside her. Sansa lapped at the bite with her mouth and a shiver went through Jon. He wanted her again in that moment despite the fact that he had just peaked himself. 

She rolled off him, cuddling into his side. Nuzzling her face into his neck, she licked him and then promptly fell asleep while Jon’s heart still hammered away in his chest and his body hummed from his release. 

His last thought before he pulled the furs over both of them and fell back to sleep was that he had to find a way to put a stop to this. Again.


End file.
